


Fair Winds and Following Seas

by kugure



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Captain!Derek Hale, Cruise Director!Stiles Stilinski, Liveaboard AU, M/M, Mutual Pining, Seamen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:11:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26140171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kugure/pseuds/kugure
Summary: However, every job had its minus side. And the minus side of being a captain in a liveaboard came in the form of a cruise director. Or cruise manager. Or whatever they called it now. Derek didn’t really care.Seriously, cruise directors would be the death of him.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 94





	Fair Winds and Following Seas

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working in a ship management company for over 5 years, so it's about time I make a fic based on my line of work. 
> 
> Yes. Correct. I'm getting paid to manage ships IRL, and I'm also having fun managing my fictional ships lol. 
> 
> But also, please keep in mind that this story is purely fictional. The chance of it actually happening IRL is very, very small. Like for example, there is no sexual tension between my captain and my cruise director lmao. 
> 
> Unbetaed. So all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy this!

Derek had been working as a deckhand since he was eighteen as he was trying to run away from the guilt and his past even though his family assured him that none of it was his fault. Those assurances meant nothing, he knew very well it was his fault; he was the one who got fooled by Kate after all, and even though his whole family survived the fire, he just couldn’t stand being near his family, where they kept saying that it wasn’t his fault. So he decided to go away, jumped on the first boat which wanted to hire the inexperienced him, and had been in the sea ever since.

It took him five years to finally be able to come home. He was still guilty of course, but he also missed his family and he was dealing with his feelings. Though, after a month of being home, he decided to go back to the sea. Because he actually enjoyed working as a seaman, and he felt at ease in the sea. 

Now he was forty-four, regularly came home once a year—it was only him, his sisters and his uncle now; his father passed away four years ago and his mother followed just a year afterward—and then spent the rest of his days at the sea as a captain of a liveaboard for the past five years. 

Being the captain of a liveaboard was nice. The routes were familiar but challenging, not too many crew to manage, and the view of the diving spots and other remote islands were the best. 

However, every job had its minus side. And the minus side of being a captain in a liveaboard came in the form of a  _ cruise director _ . Or cruise manager. Or whatever they called it now. Derek didn’t really care. 

Seriously, cruise directors would be the death of him.

He had been captain long enough to know that all cruise directors were brats who didn’t understand a single thing about safety—especially marine—bossy as fuck, and entitled prick. 

As a captain, Derek held the highest authority on board. He was the one who had the experience to navigate the waters, to make a decision regarding the boat and the safety of its passengers, because if something happened, Derek would be the one being held accountable. Safety was his number one priority. 

And cruise freaking directors, they only cared about making money and making a good impression on the guests, too afraid to say no to the guests just because they had paid a huge amount of money to be able to sail in remote areas. 

Well, they wouldn’t enjoy the holiday if they were dead.

So, yeah. It wasn’t a secret that Derek hated cruise directors. He had worked for MY Seawolf for years now, and no cruise directors could endure longer than six months with him. He didn’t care. If those pricks calling themselves cruise directors understood at least half of marine safety protocols, Derek’s life could be easier. But until then, he would make their life hard. 

Until he met Stiles Stilinski. 

“We got a new cruise director! Starting the next trip, the boss said,” Erica announced as she entered the crew area. Derek, who was on break, was lounging there with Isaac—his second officer—and also Scott—the second engineer. Jackson and Liam were still busy preparing dinner for everyone while the rest of the crew were on watch and probably resting. “He will arrive tomorrow to get to know us.”

Derek didn’t comment, just scowled while Isaac and Scott excitedly responded to the stewardess. Derek already toned out the conversation and focused back on his coffee. But then Erica nudged him. 

“What,” he grunted. 

“You have to be nice, Derek,” she said.

“I would if they weren’t stupid.”

He noticed that everyone rolled their eyes at him—he kind of missed the times when they still respected him as captain. Well, they respected him even now, but not during breaks. 

“At least learn to compromise.”

“Safety is not something to comprise about, Erica,” he said with finality as he stood up and went to galley instead with his empty cup of coffee. Erica huffed but didn’t press him further. 

The next day, Stiles Stilinski arrived at six sharp in the morning, beaming at everyone, even at Derek. And somehow, in the span of fifteen minutes, he was already very chummy with everyone though Derek kept his distance, ignoring his greetings even though the rest of his crew gave him a judging look. 

On the first trip after Stiles joining, Derek was already so skeptical, so ready to have the first fight with Stiles during the morning briefing on the first day of the trip when Stiles came in and brought the route for the day. 

“No,” Derek said after he saw Stiles’ itinerary. 

“No?” Stiles asked. 

“No,” Derek repeated, folded his arms, challenging. He waited for Stiles to argue—he knew the guy could argue, he heard her fighting with Erica about DC vs Marvel the other day—but the guy just nodded. 

“Alright,” he said. “What do you propose as an alternative then? The guests still want the experience.”

Derek had to blink. “You’re going to tell the guests no to that route?”

Stiles nodded. “Of course. It’s written in the cruise director’s job description after all; must be able to tell no to the guests in ten thousand different ways,” his arms flailed a little as he said that, “So yeah, no. I already thought that this route is pretty risky after all, with the current winds. But I’m not really sure about it since you’re the Captain so you must know the navigation way better than me. Just help me with the new itinerary for today before they arrive. Come on, Capt.”

Derek blinked again, cleared his throat, but then pointed at the map on the safest diving spots they could do for the day, while Stiles quickly scrambled it down. 

Maybe that was just a fluke. 

But then two trips, three trips, and even the ten trips later, Stiles was actually that kind of cruise director. Derek even heard him telling the guests ‘no’ in so many different ways and managed to sound so persuasive as well on top of that. Derek had to admit that it was pretty impressive.

He listened to Derek when Derek told him that the route wasn’t safe, listened when Derek proposed other alternatives, never second-guessed Derek about safety  _ at all _ . And the guy actually knew his shit. He understood when Derek explained why a spot was dangerous, he could read the tide table and understood a little about navigation, he didn’t mind helping the crew during maintenance time. And on top of that, he knew his SOLAS. Most cruise directors only cared about the hospitality side of a liveaboard and didn’t even bother with the marine side, but Stiles knew better. 

“Ugh,” Stiles grumbled that night when he and Derek had a meeting for an itinerary for the next trip. It was a thing they did; had a proper meeting before the next trip. Derek never had a cruise director willingly consult him before. “Why is making an itinerary so hard? Damn these rich guys, can they pick a better time to go on a diving trip? The weather is not very good. At this point, I’m just gonna take them barbequing at the beach every night.” He chewed his pen, frowning at the laptop screen where he had the map opened. 

“Why?”

“Huh?” Stiles blinked as he looked up from the screen. “Why? Why did they want a trip now? I also have no idea?”

“No,” Derek said. “I mean, why do you consult me? You can always just go on with your plan.”

Stiles’ eyes widened as he dropped the pen on his mouth to the table. “Are you freaking serious right now?” he asked, shocked. “You’re the captain! You make the calls! If someone died, you’re the one who would be facing the marine court! No, no, no. Is it because I’m annoying? I can talk to your first officer if you don’t want to talk to me. I mean, Boyd can help too? But I’m more comfortable talking to you. I trust you.”

_ I trust you _ .

Somehow, those words made Derek feel warm inside. “Just talk to me. To avoid confusion,” Derek responded, then gestured towards the map once again. “Let’s continue with the itinerary.”

“Oh, right. Sure.”

And a year later, Stiles was still cruise director for MY Seawolf, and it surprised everyone as much as it surprised Derek. Even the owner called Derek the other day, made sure that Derek was really fine if he continued the contract with Stiles because this was the first time a cruise director never filed an early resignation letter. 

“He’s a nice guy to work with,” Derek told the owner. 

After he finished the phone conversation, he heard the rest of the crew cooing at him—he forgot that he took the call in the crew area, with most of the crew present. Thank God Stiles was still sleeping in his cabin. 

“Ooooh, Captain got a soft spot for Stiiiiles,” Scott said.

Derek grumbled. “He’s the only cruise director who knows his shit.”

“He mentioned that his father used to be a captain too,” Allison commented. “He grew up around boats.”

Well, that made sense. 

“Why didn’t he go to the marine academy?” Danny asked.

At that question, the whole service crew plus Scott laughed. The service crew was the one who worked with Stiles a lot since their jobs were all guest-related, and Scott simply because the two hang out a lot in their free time. 

“Can you imagine Stiles as a marine crew? He can’t even focus on one thing,” Lydia answered. 

“Yup. Guest-related is better. He can focus on multiple guests at the same time and he loves to talk to them. The rate of return guests after Stiles joined us is very high,” Erica agreed. 

That was true. Stiles had the ability to befriend any strangers within five minutes. Everyone liked him. Even Jackson, who was the bitchiest chef in the whole world. He even let Stiles hang out in the galley which was a sacred place for Jackson. Well, most of their interaction was also involving throwing insults at one another, and Derek was worried at first because the insults were very  _ rude _ , but when he checked, the two were actually smirking and that was their way of bonding so Derek let them be. 

After all, he and Stiles kind of bantered a lot. Especially now that they have gotten used to each other's working dynamics. Stiles was a tease. He loved to push on people’s buttons. Derek didn’t mind Stiles talking back to him because he knew, in the end, they got each other’s back. Unlike any other asshole-directors. 

“What are you guys talking about me?” Stiles suddenly appeared from the stairs, still looking so sleepy. He scratched his stomach, made his shirt lifted a bit and Derek’s eyes focused on the slight display of the skin.

“We just talked about how we should leave you on the nearest island because you finished my pudding,” Isaac answered nonchalantly, but Stiles only yawned widely. Apparently he wasn’t awake enough. His hair was still sticking everywhere. He used to have a buzz cut on his first day arriving on board, but since they hadn’t really taken any day off near civilization, he grew his hair out. Derek thought it looked very good on him. It looked soft. 

“Wait, I need coffee before I can join in this false accusation,” he said, then dragged his feet towards the galley. “Jacksooooon, make me coffeeeeeeeeee.”

“Make your own coffee, fucker. Even Derek makes his own coffee.”

“But your coffee is the beeeeest. Pretty please?”

“No.”

“I will ruin your precious Nespresso machine then.”

“Fuck. No. Sit down. Don’t touch anything in my galley, Stilinski.”

Stiles grinned and plopped himself next to Derek even though there was a lot of empty space elsewhere. Due to the limited space of seating next to Derek, they had to sit pressed next to each other and for the first time in his life, Derek actually enjoyed the contact from someone else besides his family. Stiles was still sleep-warm and he smelled good up close. 

Stiles didn’t say anything, just half laying on Derek while he waited for his coffee. Jackson appeared a moment later, put the coffee gently on the table even though he glared at Stiles—to which Stiles replied with a kissy face and Jackson gagged dramatically. After a sip, he sighed and smiled softly to himself.

And Derek’s heart stuttered at the sight. 

“Alright, Isaac. I didn’t eat your pudding. Your drunk self  _ gave it _ to me. I’m innocent.”

“Well, sober me wants to eat my pudding.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but Isaac already jumped up from his seat as Boyd called him from the bridge through their radio. Stiles then turned to Derek. 

“So, I just got a reply email from our next guests and this is gonna be their second voyage. We should give them a different challenge than before.” Then he startled rambling about his plan, but Derek couldn’t focus, because he was busy admiring how Stiles’ lips moved, how his hands were so lively and how his eyes sparkled a little. 

Well. Fuck.

*

Cruise directors were gonna be the death of him. 

Especially this one cruise director named Stiles Stilinski, who just emerged from diving activity with guests. His rashguard clung nicely to his wet body, dripping seawater all over the front deck, and Derek could only grit his teeth from the bridge, forcing himself to focus or else, he would ground the boat. 

He never grounded the boat when he had a shitty cruise director. He wouldn’t start to ground the boat  _ now _ just because he couldn’t hold back his own  _ desire _ . He was forty-four, goddammit. And since Stiles was ten years younger than him, he should be the one who was more mature. More professional. 

But seriously. Nothing was professional about Stiles right now. 

He slicked his wet hair back away from his face, smiling as he talked to the guests about their diving experience just now. He then folded his arms across his chest, and the rashguard was basically painted on him. Stiles wasn’t too bulky, but he had a nice definition of lean muscles. He was now laughing hard, threw his head back and Derek’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He looked like he just walked out of Derek’s wet dream.

“Careful, Capt. you might break the wheel,” Boyd said, and Derek cursed internally because he was too focused on Stiles he didn’t even realize Boyd entered the bridge. 

“Switch time, Capt,” Boyd said again, and Derek grunted at him, didn’t bother with any other words because he needed a cold shower. Now. 

He swore he heard Boyd laugh behind him but he would deal with that later. 

Fuck. 

*

Realizing that he had a  _ feeling  _ for Stiles was a different kind of torture. Now that he thought about it, he would rather have a shitty cruise director again because dealing with assholes was better. While dealing with Stiles? That required a lot of energy. 

How he looked so soft when he just woke up. How he laughed when he exchanged jokes with the rest of the crew. How he talked so fast Derek wondered whether he would faint because he forgot to breathe. How he looked so serious when he checked all the diving gears with Danny to make sure that everything was proper. And then the favorite one of Derek; when Stiles brought him coffee during his on-watch time. 

As a captain, Derek’s on-watch time was from midnight to four in the morning. And when there were no guests on board, Stiles was always there to accompany him. He would talk about his dad or his late mother, and that made Derek open up about himself too. 

“Well, that Kate’s a bitch,” Stiles said after Derek told him about how he became a seaman. This was the first time Derek told that story to someone outside his family, and at first, he was afraid Stiles would judge him. But apparently he was wrong. Stiles was still chewing his snack, but his amber eyes filled with anger. “Obviously that’s not your fault, Capt. She deserves to rot in jail.”

He had heard those words so many times, but somehow, coming from Stiles, it made him smile and felt a little bit better about himself. 

Stiles was also a curious guy. During that midnight on-watch shift, he would ask Derek how to plot the route on their navigational system, how to read the radar and echo sounder, and even at some point, he learned how to handle the steering wheel. 

“You keep that up and I would very much gladly have you replace my shift on this midnight on-watch,” Isaac commented one night after he saw the progress Stiles had. “I would love more sleep.”

Derek rolled his eyes at Isaac. He mostly spent the on-watch shift on the front deck after all instead of inside the bridge. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, he doesn’t have the proper certification,” Derek said while Stiles cackled. “Now go to the rooftop and see what’s wrong with the spotlight. Kira should be on-watch now from the engine room. Radio her if you need her assistance.”

“Aye, aye, Capt.” Isaac saluted him, but just before he slipped out of the bridge, he shouted, “Just say so if you want some alone time with Stiles!”

Too bad Derek was still handling the sea chart or he would love to slap Isaac’s head. He was about to attempt an awkward apology to Stiles, but he caught that the cruise director was blushing, and Derek’s thought on the apology was gone, replaced by a wondering thought, whether how far the blush would go under Stiles’ shirt. 

*

Dating between the crew wasn’t a forbidden thing in MY Seawolf. Scott and Allison, then Erica and Boyd were in a steady relationship after all. Jackson and Lydia used to date, but even after they broke up, everything was fine. Derek wasn’t sure what was happening between Malia and Kira, but he was pretty sure they were sleeping together. Not that Derek ever slept or dated any of his crew, now that his  _ interest _ had somehow become common knowledge among them, the knowing look he got was unbearable. 

He was worried it would make Stiles uncomfortable, but when he scolded Erica with that, the stewardess only rolled her eyes and said, “He’s also attracted to you, Capt. I can almost smell it in the air.”

Well, Erica wasn’t wrong, probably. Because every time someone teased them, Stiles would blush prettily, but never really said out loud that he minded. Derek knew very well that Stiles was the type of person who would say it out loud if he felt bothered, but so far, he didn’t object. Derek even took his chance by touching the lower of Stiles’ back one time during a crowded time in the crew area and he was pretty sure that Stiles melted into his touch. 

(Derek himself almost melted on the spot, feeling Stiles’ warmth seeping to his palm.)

That moment made him braver on his touch, and encouraged Stiles to reciprocate as well—Derek thought he died and went to heaven the first time Stiles touched his lips to clean a coffee residue—but Derek wasn’t brave enough to confess. Yet. He still needed time. 

And he knew his crew was frustrated because of that, but since Stiles didn’t seem to mind, he kept his slow pace. 

Though, that kind of had to change a few months later. 

Derek was very well aware that most rich people were assholes, especially since MY Seawolf’s guests were always rich people—the rate was over twenty thousand dollars a night after all—but the guests on this trip were another level of assholes. 

One of them, Derek was sure the name was Matt Daehler, kept hitting on Stiles, and clearly made him uncomfortable and made the rest of the crew seething with rage, though they couldn’t really do anything because this was  _ paying guests _ . 

But Derek was at his limit. Screw paying guests. He could just throw them overboard and be done with it, damn all the consequences. Because Matt just touched Stiles without his permission  _ again _ and Derek was so, so  _ done _ . He walked out of the bridge. 

Apparently Malia already predicted that he would walk out because the next thing he let the wheel go, Malia was already there to take the place. She also glared at Daehler’s direction. 

Derek didn’t bother with greetings, only growled, “Stop touching him,” when he was close enough. That made Matt jerk away from Stiles, and Derek could see that he was pretty much intimidated before his rich boy attitude emerged. 

“How dare you talk to me like that? I’m the heir of Daehler—”

“I don’t care,” Derek cut him off. “You might be paying guest here, but I’m the fucking Captain and if you harass  _ my crew _ one more time, I will throw you out of this ship.” Derek leaned closer, glaring hard as he spoke, “and I can make it look like an accident.”

He saw Matt gulped, and he gestured to Stiles to follow him. “You’re done for the night. Go back to your cabin. I’ll have Liam bring your dinner to your cabin. Good night, Stiles.” Stiles kind of swayed toward his direction a little and Derek was weak, so he gave Stiles’ shoulder a soft squeeze before he walked back to the bridge. 

Malia was grinning at him when he entered the bridge. “Nicely done, Capt,” Malia said, moved away from the wheel. Derek just sighed. “Jackson was already planning on poisoning the food if the bastard didn’t stop harassing Stiles,” Malia said again, and Derek chuckled. 

“Can you radio Liam—”

“Already did,” Malia said again. “Don’t worry, Capt. We’re taking care of him for you too.”

This time, Derek didn’t even try to correct Malia.

Matt Daehler stopped harassing Stiles after Derek’s confrontation that night. And luckily, he didn’t even try to make a move on any other crew. Though, it didn’t mean he stopped being an asshole. 

Derek was  _ so, so close _ to actually throwing him off the boat because he knew he had a new method of being annoying. 

“I wanna go diving to this reef,” Daehler said one morning, showed up on the bridge unannounced, shoving his Navionics map from his phone on Derek’s face.

Derek hated that Navionics map application. Because it was just an app, and without any actual experience on the sea, the map was useless. However, most guests had it on their phone nowadays, thinking that they knew better than the captain. And combined with Daehler’s asshole attitude, it wouldn’t end well. 

“No,” Derek said. He was about to shove him out of the bridge when Stiles appeared, all flailing arms and angry face. 

“You can not bother Captain Hale,” he said. “I already told you that the reef can not be visited in this weather. The current is too strong.”

“You’re no captain though. Take me there,” Daehler insisted. “The map says it’s possible, so it’s possible.” And without waiting for confirmation, he walked out. Isaac flipped a bird on his back while Derek snarled. 

“I’ll just take him to the safer place near that area,” Derek said when Daehler was completely gone. “He won’t know the difference.”

Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose before he sighed and rested his forehead on Derek’s shoulder. “I will need a week off after this trip is over,” Stiles’ mumbled against Derek’s arm. “His friends are okay, but he’s such a huge asshole.”

Derek used his other hand to ruffle Stiles’ hair and Stiles straightened up. “I better get back to work before he thinks of any other stupid ideas.”

Stiles leaned closer as if he wanted to give a peck on Derek’s cheek, and Derek was about to lean closer, but then Stiles caught something behind Derek’s shoulder, blushed furiously and said, “See you later, Capt!” as he ran away from the bridge. 

Derek blinked at Stiles’ sudden disappearance, then turned around and saw Isaac, who was grinning widely at him. 

“He shouldn’t mind that I’m here. Usually, you two barely notice everyone else when you’re around each other anyway,” Isaac commented, making Derek shake his head as he swatted his arm. 

“Take the wheel, I’ll plot the route.”

“Aye, Capt!”

*

As Derek expected, Daehler didn’t even notice that he brought them to the safest diving spot two miles away from his wanted spot. He pointed it out though, but a simple, “That app is not accurate. Do you believe your app or my radar more?” managed to shut him up. 

Stiles was already leading them down after the boat finished the anchoring process, Boyd and Malia following as the dingy crew while Derek and the rest of the crew on standby. 

Once Stiles, Boyd, Malia, and the guests disappeared to the diving spot with the dingy, the rest of the service crew prepared the lunch table. Everyone was busy with their own task for a while since the guests wouldn’t be back for at least another three hours, but then Derek heard a shout and he looked up from the computer towards the entry of the boat. 

And that was when he saw Boyd, with Stiles in his arms. Though what made Derek’s eyes widened in horror was how blood was trickling from Stiles’ leg. They apparently had managed to do first aid on him, seen from the temporary bandage already wrapped around the injured leg, but Stiles would need further treatment.

Derek rushed out of the bridge, immediately on Boyd’s side. Stiles was conscious, but it was clear he was holding his pain. 

“What happened?”

“I’m good, Capt. Just a little bleeding—”

“Shut up, I’m asking Boyd. What happened?”

“Ugly encounter with a reef. Daehler strayed too far and Stiles was about to pull him back in but then Stiles hit a reef before getting dragged by the current.”

“It’s not that bad! Seriously!” Stiles tried, but Derek ignored him.

Derek wanted to punch Daehler on the face but Stiles was his priority now. “Other guests okay?”

“They’re okay—”

“You, shut up. Boyd?”

“The guests are okay.”

“That’s what I’m about to say anyway!”

“Can you handle the rest, Boyd? Tell Lydia she’s in charge of guest activity from now. I’ll take care of Stiles,” Derek said, and Boyd nodded as he carefully moved Stiles to Derek’s arms. 

Stiles hissed when his injured leg jostled a little, but Derek managed to find a position that was comfortable for both of them. He heard Boyd and Lydia in the background started to take care of everything else while Derek disappeared to the below deck, bringing Stiles to his cabin.

He laid Stiles carefully on the couch, then cut off the rest of his wetsuit carefully and peeled it off of Stiles’ body, leaving him only in his rashguard and swim trunk. 

“It’s not that bad, Derek,” Stiles said again, and now, Derek kind of agreed with him. It only looked bad because the blood mixed with water and made it look a lot more than the actual blood dripping from the wound, but the wound itself wasn’t deep. It didn’t even need stitches. 

“What’s that stupid Daehler do now,” Derek asked, grabbed the medical kit and started treating Stiles’ wound. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “His usual self. Gloating that he’s a better diver and other stuff. If he was the one who got carried by the current, he would be a continent away by now.”

Derek smiled. “You should’ve let him get carried then. We can be done with him.”

Stiles chuckled, but then hissed when Derek cleaned his wound. His hand flew to Derek’s shoulder, and Derek let him. 

Stiles didn’t talk more afterward, so Derek focused on patching him up, and when he was done, he was quite surprised to find Stiles already looking at him. His amber eyes were so intense under the lighting of Derek’s cabin and Derek gave in. He leaned closer and kissed his lips softly. 

Derek’s thumb found Stiles’ cheek, and he caressed it gently, about to deepen the kiss when he felt Stiles smile against his lips. 

“What?” Derek asked, pulled away though not too far. Their nose was still touching. 

“If I know it only took me bleeding for you to finally kiss me, I would’ve offered to help Jackson chopping stuff in the galley ages ago.”

Derek chuckled and pressed another kiss on Stiles’ lips before pulling away. He kept his hand on Stiles’ face though. “I shouldn’t have kissed you after you got injured if it’s gonna give you the wrong idea like that.”

Stiles laughed. “Well, maybe you should kiss me until I feel better?”

Derek shook his head but kissed Stiles again. “You should rest now. Just stay here, okay? I’ll be back after I finish moving the boat.”

Stiles nodded. 

Derek stood up and opened his cupboard, took out his clean shirt, sweat pants, and towel before handing it to Stiles. “I want to stay and help but I’m needed upstairs.”

Stiles grinned. “Don’t worry, Derek. You can see me naked some other time.”

Derek rolled his eyes, though he kissed Stiles’ forehead before he walked out of the cabin. 

And if he found Stiles sound asleep on his bed with his clothes after he finished his shift, or how he felt like he was coming home for the first time after a very long time once he settled himself curled around Stiles, it was something he would treasure forever. 

(Stiles also moved permanently to Derek’s cabin afterward to other crew delights, since they had been wanting to use the cruise director’s cabin as storage place due to its strategic location and easy access.)

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to hit me up on my [tumblr](http://grettalks.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/grettalks?s=09).


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